PredatorPrey
by Rodwen Fefalas
Summary: Bella was a one-night stand, and Edward doesn't want the repercussions.
1. Chapter 1

3

Predator

His eyes had the gleam of someone who knew what they wanted and how they could get it. She wouldn't be his first, but she may be his last, and he had been determined—oh, so determined—to make a move on her.

He looked like the traditional tall, dark, and handsome charmer that could sweep a woman off her feet if he so desired. He knew how to dress, what kinds of cologne a woman would prefer to smell on her beau, and how to purr in just the right way that she would feel compelled to invite him home, or do whatever he wished. He went for the easier women—the ones with low self-esteem and flourished in the flattery of male attention. He would study a woman who caught his eye for a day or so, learning the way she walked, talked, the people she considered good company, the things she wore, the places she went, and the objects she used most, or chose from a selection of items presented to her in her daily life. He caught snatches of conversations she engaged herself in, honing in on the things she liked and disliked, and played to those with the ease of a piano player at the keys.

And that made him dangerous. He became very good at this game, acquiring many mistresses, but no wives; taking the breathy whispers of youthful desires, and in return, giving empty promises and pleasures. He knew how good he was becoming, and he didn't stop, figuring that that just meant he could have more of the things he wanted.

So when he went into work the next morning, needlessly adjusting the tie on his Armani suit, to find his assistant sitting in his chair, he wondered just how bad this day might be.

"You're an idiot," she told him. She crossed her long legs under her white Prada pencil skirt, folded her hands in her lap, and bored her green eyes into his. The floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, outlining the view of the upper-end of the city, illuminated the room, the walls having been made of glass cut into geometric patterns to emphasize the modernity of the business. The office contained only a lounging chair, a desk, and a fair few comfortable pieces of furniture, but all of it was very expensive. His assistant was no exception, with her delicate silver jewelry, and her long hair pulled back so that the ends could rain onto her tiny shoulders.

He raised his eyebrows. For a moment, he only looked at her, and then wagged his index finger, motioning for her to get out of the chair. "Give me back my seat and I might be more inclined to listen," he warned. He didn't a tease with her or anyone at work. As he took her place and settled back against the white leather, he placed his bag on the floor beside him and steepled his fingers, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair. His smile, white, straight, and beautiful, didn't faze her flat expression. His face fell. "What?"

"Do you have _any_ idea what you've done?" she asked, her lips barely moving and her hands trembling. For the first time, he noticed she held a rolled up newspaper in her hand.

He looked like a person who had just found out their house had been robbed and burned to the ground. "Do I _look_ like I have any idea? Just tell me."

She snorted and smacked the paper onto his desk. "Do you know what just arrived for you today?" she asked as he sat up, peering at the headlines. "A woman," she said.

He frowned, but didn't look up while he flipped through the pages. "So? Get rid of her," he said.

"Do you know what she had with her?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "No, Rosalie, I don't."

"A _child_!" she yelled, the veins standing out in her neck, her eyes blazing. "A _child_, Edward—a baby girl! At first, I thought there had to be some mistake. You couldn't have been so careless –"

"Hey!" he snapped.

"– but apparently I was wrong!" She placed her palms flat against the white glass surface of his desk and her necklace—a tiny, glittering Tiffany's heart pendant—swung forward, flashing in the light the way her eyes did. "Did you even consider the repercussions of your actions? Do you realize what you have done, fostering a child?"

"How do you know it's even mine?" he snapped, folding the newspaper back up and tossing it into the garbage can beside him.

"It had your eyes," she muttered, almost to herself.

His jaw dropped and he inclined his head. "I'm sorry?"

"Your eyes, Edward. It had your eyes!" she hissed through her teeth. She pushed back from the desk and paced the room, her hands clenching and unclenching in front of her. "You're in big trouble and you don't even seem to realize how bad this _is_!"

He passed a hand over his eyes in thought. _Who could it be? Who could it possibly be?_ He couldn't remember anyone he slept with. "Who is she? Did she say?"

"Her name is Bella," Rosalie said. She picked up his empty glass candy dish and studied it with her hands. There was a little texture on the bottom of it, a bit of rough bump that would help it sit on a table or a cloth, while the sides were smooth and ridged to resemble flower petals. It was formed beautifully, and felt weighty in her hands. She tried to appreciate the craftsmanship…but then the picture of the woman who'd appeared at the reception desk appeared in her mind's eye, like a headlight that was coming closer and closer, until it was all she could see for about three seconds, until

_SMASH!_

"Rosalie!" Edward screamed, jumping out of his seat and running the short distance to her side. His mouth gaped open as he stared at the broken pieces on the ground. "What the hell did you do?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, and he could tell that that wasn't even the extent of the damage she wanted to do. "Get her gone, Edward," she said. She turned on her cream Prada heels and marched out of the office, and he saw a few of his employees scatter as she walked by.


	2. Chapter 2

2

Prey

Bella sat in a plush beige chair in the waiting room, a beautiful baby carrier at her side. She dressed smartly, if casually for an upper-class New Yorker, in a v-neck t-shirt, short sleeved suit jacket, and tailored suit pants with faux-velvet booted heels. She'd darkened her eyes and made them glow, but she hardly smiled enough to bring that light to them.

The baby began to cry in her plush carrier and Bella rolled her eyes. She still couldn't believe she'd been able to have a child, let alone carry anything in her womb for nine aggravating months. "Lily!" she called, her voice lower and huskier than her outfit suggested. "Lily!" she called again, more firmly this time.

"Yes! Yes, I'm here!" the nanny said, hurrying over and, crooning, lifted the baby from her carrier.

"Where were you? The baby was calling for hours!" she snapped, standing and pulling a compact out of her Gucci purse and checking her reflection.

"I went to the bathroom, Ms. Swan," Lily informed her, cuddling the child in the crook of her arm and waving her fingers in front of the girl's eyes, bouncing gently as she did so.

"Well be sure it doesn't happen again," Bella muttered into the pressed powder, frowning down at what might have been – god forbid –a speck of schmutz.

"Yes, ma'am."

Bella lifted her face from her compact, tucked the mirror away, and smiled to herself. She secretly loved the high-class lifestyle that seemed to beckon from the glass walls, white fixtures, and business that swirled around her. Her father had done well enough, but her mother had wanted something her husband couldn't give her, and exited this city for another. Bella had returned, however, and made her way to one of the best night clubs in the city, where she met the darling and handsome Edward. She'd spent a few days in his company, followed by a few hours with him in bed before he left for work and she hadn't seen him again. That didn't mean she couldn't track him down, especially when Cullen was the most prosperous business name in the city. Unfortunately, while the youngest Cullen was the one she was looking for, he also happened to be the one she couldn't seem to get a hold of.

"Excuse me," Bella said, going up to the reception desk again and resting her hand against the smoky white glass countertop. The receptionist, a hawk-like woman with pointed eyebrows, glared up at her. "Could you please call for Mr. Cullen?"

"I already have, Ms. Swan," the receptionist said. "I doubt he would be more inclined to respond if you pester him. Once more, I suggest you take a seat and wait for him."

Bella's face fell and she walked away. _First, he leaves me waiting for him to return home—now, he leaves me waiting for him to appear._ She plopped her purse back onto the seat, but refused to sit, not wanting to ruin her outfit before she got the chance to show Edward what he was missing since he left just over a year ago, having recovered nicely from her pregnancy.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Predator

Rosalie marched her way across the building and knocked with quick, smart raps on her pseudo-sister's office door before entering and shutting it behind her. Unlike the other offices, Alice's had a wall to the left of the door, on which she had thrown a coat of deep purple paint and a variety of well-placed art pieces, from black and white photograph clusters to panoramic scenes of a coastal house. Other than that, the rest of the office was as generic as any of the private offices that the Cullens had established.

Alice looked up from her computer, where her fingers flew over her keyboard, and smiled at her sister. Even though she, too, had dressed in all white, she looked much softer in her cloth half-jacket, a feathery shirt that ended at her knees, white leggings, and silver ballet slippers. She had been called a pixie numerous times, a statement made from her short haircut and pointed nose. "Hi, Rosalie!" she called, and turned back to the computer.

Rosalie just stood there for a while, a metaphorical black cloud hanging over her head that couldn't be diminished by Alice's airy mood. Only the sounds of Alice's typing, and the muted rush of office activity outside the room, filled the silence, until Alice realized Rosalie hadn't moved, and stopped typing. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

Rosalie shook her head, a signal to Alice that she had something big on her mind. "Do you have any idea what our brother's actions have done?" she asked in a tight, strained voice.

Alice frowned, folding her hands in her lap. "I'm not sure what you mean," she said, her tone careful.

Rosalie shook her head again, her eyes moving towards the wall opposite Alice, where the back of a secretary's head inclined as she spoke on one of the phones. Sometimes, Alice was a simpleton for good reasons: she could be too kind, too generous, too giving for their lifestyle. Other times, she was a simpleton for all the wrong reasons: she could be forgetful of who their brother was, too unaware and uncaring for the world, and the city, they grew up in. Sometimes she was too aware, and wished to remain blissfully ignorant, even while she knew she couldn't. It was the curse of being known, of being money people, of being exclusive. Rosalie might've been everything Alice wasn't, but that didn't make her sadistic or cruel for the wrong reasons.

"Why can't he choose one of our own, hmm?" she asked, her voice threatening tears she knew wouldn't spill. "Why can't he find people who might be good for him and for us? Why does he have to run around and make trouble where he shouldn't?"

Frightened, Alice rose. "What's going on?" she asked.

Rosalie sighed and focused on the small, amoeba-shaped glass coffee table in the middle of the room, her head angled to the side. "One of his nameless beaux has shown up on our doorstep," she muttered.

Alice's face brightened a degree. "Really?" she asked. Rosalie's head snapped up and she pinned Alice with a glare.

"Alice! Honestly," she said.

Alice shrugged. "Well, I can't help it, I'm curious. I want to finally meet one of the women Edward decides to take home! It's kind of exciting, don't you think?" she asked, a child with her first pixie stick in years. She even shook Rosalie's shoulder.

"No, I don't think," Rosalie snapped. "If you're so excited, you go and grant her access to the head-honcho's office."

Alice raised her head. "Fine, I will."

Rosalie's eyes widened, her mouth gaping just slightly. "You're seriously considering it?" she asked in disbelief.

Alice shrugged and walked towards the door. "Sure, why not? She can't be that bad, if Edward took her."

Rosalie laughed, moving out of the way and following her down the hall, one hand at her pulse-less temple. "Edward is a raving lunatic, if you don't recall," she reminded Alice. The minute Alice heard those words, however, she spun around and gave Rosalie an evil look. "He is!" Rosalie stage whispered.

"We're not supposed to talk about that," Alice said, her sharpened features softening with concern.

"But you know he is, Alice!" Rosalie said, taking hold of Alice's shoulders. Alice's head dropped to her chest, knowing what was coming. "He takes them out and then throws them out, or he finds one he likes and he stalks her! He's one of those bad relationships that the girl needs to get out of before things get out of hand! Why should we waste our time with this one if he doesn't even remember who she is? She's not in danger from him so she doesn't need protecting."

Alice looked at her, but her eyes told Rosalie the conversation had come to an abrupt halt. "Enough, okay? I'm going to bring her in. You go back to your desk and just breathe." Alice turned and walked down the hall towards the reception desk, calling over her shoulder, "Just call Tanya if you're that upset. She'll listen to you."

Rosalie huffed and shook her head. "Sure she will," she muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

1

Prey

"You must be Isabella," Alice called, clicking down the hallway with her hand extended.

"It's Bella, actually," she said, but accepted the hand, ignoring the child and nanny behind her. "Is Edward here?"

"I'm his sister," Alice said. "Edward's a little busy, so I thought I'd take you up to meet him." Her eyes caught the movement of the child's small fist as her ears detected the baby's cooing. "Is that the little one?" she asked, peering around Bella's shoulder and starting towards the nanny.

"Yes, but that's not important –" Bella began, but was interrupted with Alice's exclamation of "How cute!"

She leaned over the bundle Lily cradled. "May I?" she asked, her eyes shining.

Lily smiled. "Go ahead." She handed the child over and Alice began a cooing of her own. When she saw the cold, dark look her employer was sending her way, Lily bowed her head and stepped back, seating herself on the uncomfortably stylish bench.

"So, this is the tramp he's been stalking? What a waste of time."

All three women turned at the sound of Rosalie's voice. She stood in the doorway, a steaming mug of something that smelled suspiciously heady clutched in her grip, while the other hand rested on her hip. Her brows were furrowed, but that only added to her terrible beauty.

"Well, obviously he wants me around! He hasn't had me kicked me out yet! He hasn't killed me!" Bella insisted. Both Alice and Lily gave her wide-eyed looks, but Bella ignored them.

Rosalie narrowed her eyes. "If he wanted you dead, you would be."

That only made Bella smile. "Well, then, we know how he feels, don't we?"

"He just doesn't know what's good for him," Rosalie snapped, stomping out of the room. The attendants failed to lower their eyes when she passed, and each was caught eavesdropping.

Bella gave herself a tiny shake, lifted her head, and straightened her blouse. "Well," she said, amid a fresh flurry of typing fingers. She turned to the right, her gaze honing in on Alice, who had resumed her quiet cooing and paid no attention to the haughty young woman. "Shall we meet him?" Bella demanded.

Lily looked over at her employer, distressed and anxious to get out of the building, but Alice just raised her eyebrows, rocking the child. "You're sure you want to?" she asked.

Bella scoffed. "Yes! Why else would I still be here?" She rolled her eyes and tucked her hair back. "My God, I wouldn't come all this way if I didn't want to see him."

Alice shrugged and handed the baby to Lily. "Fine, knock yourself out," she muttered. Without a second glance, Alice began to walk down the same hall Rosalie had exited through. "Come on, he's this way."


	5. Chapter 5

1

Predator

Edward frowned when Alice knocked on the door, his eyes on the girl hovering behind her. "What is this? What do you want?" he asked.

"It's the girl, Edward," Alice told him, entering the office so that Bella could pass.

He shook his head and sorted through a folder. "Which one?"

Bella's face fell at this, and she walked forward to lean over his desk. "Bella," she cried. Her voice rose an octave and Edward winced at the sound. "Bella Swan!"

"Riveting," he muttered, punching a series of keys on his computer. "What do you want?"

Bella began to tremble, her eyes wide and her bottom lip pushed forward in a bright pink pout. "Edward, it's me! Your Bella! Your One!"

He barely glanced at her. "There are a lot of women in this town, Miss Swan. I can scarcely recall every one of them, particularly when I do not make a point of it."

"But – but you said I was special," she said. A fat tear rolled down her cheek, and he wondered whether or not she was pushing herself to this crying bit the way the others had.

"I'm a business man, Miss Swan. I say a lot of things to a lot of people. It's why I'm successful." He didn't look up from his computer as he continued his rapid typing. In the corner, Alice beamed with secret pleasure.

Bella gave a short sob before she blew up, like a grenade. "You son of a bitch! You lying, cheating, scheming son of a bitch! I loved you, I gave myself to you, and I had a CHILD for you!" she snarled, and beat her fists against the desk. Alice, alarmed, called out the hall, "Security! We have a woman who needs to be removed."

They arrived only too quickly for Bella, hoisting her up by her armpits so that, as she kicked and screamed, she knocked over lamps, papers, and dishes of pencils, pens, and sweets from any raised object she passed as they carried her out. Her shrieking drew eyes, but no one moved to stop it, and she was marched past her nanny and child, deposited outside the building, and reminded that she was henceforth banned from entering the building again. She pouted, her arms crossed over her rumpled blouse, when Lily ran out after her, huffing under the weight of the baby bag, carriage, and child in her arms. Bella snatched the crying child, whose screams increased, and stomped off down the street, her hair flying as Lily rushed to keep up, her thoughts only for the safety of the child locked in the grip of a mad woman.


End file.
